


Kids from Yesterday

by Sparklefairygirl



Category: Lockwood & Co. - Jonathan Stroud
Genre: AU, AU:Lifelong Talents, Angela is a rude person, Awkward Flirting, F/M, Kipps starts out a butt, Mystery, Slow Burn, This was posted in four chapters on Ff.net, cross posted, he will be coming, im sorry, or at least that's how it goes in my mind, skull
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2016-11-12
Packaged: 2018-08-18 20:23:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8174849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sparklefairygirl/pseuds/Sparklefairygirl
Summary: The Problem is just what it sounds like, a huge problem. But generally, the adults do most of the front line stuff. Lockwood and Co aren't even friends yet. They all four attend the snobbish London Academy for Psychic Agents. When Lucy stumbled upon a dark conflict, she'll need more than her wits and the talking skull she discovered. She'll need a competent team. Locklyle





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A scene from the middle of this story came to me and somehow I built an AU off it and plot and such. Enjoy this fluff. Enjoy Locklyle. Those two dorks <3

Lucy was late, in more ways than one. The obvious, of course, was the fact that she was rushing through the unfamiliar halls of her new school, hair in a crazy flurry around her head, bag slung hurriedly on one shoulder, blouse untucked. She had overslept. No one in her dorm had thought or wanted to wake her because she was a newbie. She had transferred to the London Academy for Psychic Agents after receiving her Grade Three. Most students at the Academy could boast of training there from Grade One. Even Grade Two transfers were tolerated, but Grade Four? Unheard of. And there was a heavy fee to pay, as Lucy soon discovered. She finally found the correct door, with the correct number, for her correct class. She heaved the heavy door open. It creaked noisily. Dozens of pairs of eyes swung to her. There were looks of disgust, looks of amusement, looks of disappointment, but not one person gave her any trace of pity.   
"Is this Study of Ghost Types, Grade Four?" Lucy asked, rather stupidly.   
Laughter swelled in the classroom. The instructor, a stern faced lady, shushed them.   
"Yes Miss Carlyle. I was just about to send someone to fetch you. Please have a seat. Tuck in your shirt. As this is your first day, I shall let the infraction pass. Do it again, and it's a detention."   
There was only one seat empty, in the front of the room.   
Just perfect, Lucy thought sullenly.   
She dropped her bag unceremoniously and rapidly tucked in her blouse into her skirt. She then scanned the room, observing the enemy. Every single girl had their perfectly crisp white shirts tucked perfectly into their perfectly ironed black skirts. Some had black jumpers, embroidered with the crest of the school. The boys had similar shirts and jumpers but pants instead of skirts. Lucy hated it instantly. She couldn't wait to get to rapier practice to show them a thing or two, and wipe the pretentious smirks off their faces. For now she wouldn't say a thing. She wouldn't rise to the bait. She would bide her time.   
"What is the obvious problem whilst dealing with a Poltergeist, Miss Godwin?"  
A sharp chinned, highbrow type character gave a quick, clipped reply.   
"No visible manifestation."  
"Correct, as always."   
Miss Godwin gave a smug smile, as if she had just figured out the solution to the Problem. That question and answer sequence was Grade One stuff. The rest of the class went much the same way. The beginning of the year was mostly review as always. It seemed to Lucy that, besides the general attitude, London was no different to her little town in the north. Just a bit bigger; maybe a whole lot bigger. As the bell sounded the end of the lesson, Lucy checked her schedule. She had History. When it said "history" she knew it meant the history of the Problem and lots and lots of historic outbreaks and cases. Fun. Lucy was going to hear the same old tales about Tom Rotwel and Marisa Fites, again. She was the last one out the door, so the next class was already fileing inside as she squeezed out. She knocked into someone as she passed. It was a short, but wide guy with pale hair. His clothes were also rumpled, just as Lucy's. But she had to suspect that he wore it like that everyday.   
"Sorry."   
He just narrowed his eyes and looked her up and down through round glasses. Then he raised his eyebrows and let out a short laugh.   
"Done staring?"   
Lucy asked accusingly.   
He replied simply.   
"Yeah." Then he walked into the classroom, still laughing to himself and shaking his head.   
Then Lucy remembered she had a class to get to. If it was her luck she would be late to the next class as well.   
"Where the devil is room 347 supposed to be?" She mumbled to herself angrily. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to the numbering system. It would skip suddenly from room 213 to room 273 with out any warning. It's like a number line meant nothing to the builders. Students were still milling about as it was still three minutes to the bell.   
Lucy looked around for someone who would possibly even talk to her like she didn't have a deadly contagious disease.   
A tall, pale boy, who was just across the hall, was smiling. A genuine full teeth, dazzling smile that made you, despite yourself, want to smile back. The pretty brunette that he was chatting up was giggling charmingly. Lucy steeled herself, then walked up to him. She tapped him on his shoulder.   
"Excuse me?"   
He turned toward her, the full force of his grin directed upon her. She was suddenly aware of the disarray of her hair, her shoddy tucking in job, not to mention the wrinkled clothing.   
"Yes?"   
She only just managed not staring stupidly at the boy.   
"Sorry, it's just, well I don't know the layout of the school very well. I'm new." As Lucy said this, the brunette scoffed. The boy did nothing. Lucy continued.   
"Can you help me find room 347?"   
The boy nodded sympathetically.   
"Who ever did the remodeling of this place really mess up the numbering. It's two floors up. Where you get off the landing, it's going to be on your right."   
Lucy sighed in relief.   
"Thanks."   
The boy's smile melted away, into a concerted expression.   
"You don't have a lot of time. You may be late."   
Lucy's first instinct would have been to make a mad dash for the fourth floor, but she knew that she wouldn't make it either way. She shrugged philosophically.   
"I'm defiantly going to be late."   
The boy's grin was back. Lucy blinked in its brightness.   
"Good to see you've excepted your fate. Most newbies don't."   
The brunette, now obviously miffed and a little jealous, sidled up to the boy and linked arms with him.   
"Come on Lockwood. Otherwise we're going to be late." Lockwood. Interesting name for an interesting person, Lucy thought briefly. Then she strode to the stairs and started to annoyingly long climb up.   
Lockwood pulled his arm out of the girls and said,  
"You didn't have to be so rude, Angela." He spotted a paper lying on the ground and picked it up. It was a schedule. The name at the top read "Lucy Carlyle". He checked the second period class for Monday and sure enough it was in room 347. Folding the paper, then stuffing it in his pocket, he marched into his next class. The dropped paper gave him an excellent reason to talk to the new girl with wild short hair and determination in her eyes again.   
Lucy noticed her missing schedule as soon as her class was over. She crouched next to her disorganized bag of notebooks folders and textbooks and started rifling through them. No schedule. She sighed in frustration. Everything that could go wrong is going wrong, she thought wryly. Someone tapped her shoulder lightly. It was the boy. He was standing casually over her, his dark hair flopping over his brow, his dark eyes sparkling with an amused and mischievous air.   
"Excuse me?"   
He said as Lucy picked herself off the floor and pushed her own hair out of her eyes.   
"Are you looking for something important Miss Lucy Carlyle?"   
Both Lucy's eyebrows shot up. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He flashed a grin at her.   
"At least, I assume that's your name..."  
Lucy couldn't help the grin the broke out on her face as she reached for the paper the boy handed her.   
"My schedule! That could have been really bad."   
The boy's grin widened, and he shook his head.   
"Where are my manners? I'm Anthony Lockwood. Everyone just calls me Lockwood though."  
"Lucy Carlyle, but you already knew that."  
He nodded. He motioned for Lucy to follow him, parting a path through the other pupils still walking to their various classes. He continued in a conversational tone, as if the two of them had been friends forever.   
"My dramatic entrance line did come across as a tad stalkerish didn't it?"  
Lucy laughed, shouldering her way through the crowd behind him. She accidentally bumped into a couple sharing a kiss. They turned and glared at her simultaneously.   
"Oops sorry- yeah it kinda threw me off guard."   
Lockwood stopped suddenly, and Lucy ran suddenly into his back.  
"Sorry. Bit of warning next time?"  
He Ignored her fumble and apology, instead drew his own schedule out of his trouser pocket. He flourished it and turned to Lucy.   
"I checked your schedule and we got lucky!"   
"Lucky? What makes you say that?"   
"You, me and George have maths together."   
Lucy was confused. She didn't even know a George. She realized she didn't even know Lockwood.   
She furrowed her eyebrows and fumbled with the strap of her bag, and asked Lockwood,  
"Why would that make us lucky? Maths is a blowoff class. It's all self paced..."   
"Exactly! No one cares about mathematics. Here comes George."   
It was the tallow haired boy, with a round face, small spectacles, and wide body.   
He raised an eyebrow at Lucy and greeted Lockwood.   
"Hey Lockwood. Who's this?"   
Lockwood drew in a breath to answer but Lucy cut him off.   
"Lucy Carlyle. I'm a transfer."   
"I could only assume that."   
He looked her up and down once again, and shook his head slightly. Then, he pushed past the two of us and entered the class room.   
Lockwood smiled at Lucy.   
"That went well."   
Lucy's puzzled face prompted him to clarify himself.   
"I can tell George and you are going to get along well."   
"What makes you say that?"   
"He laughed and shook his head like that the first time I met him."   
Then he turned and followed George into math class.   
Lucy shook her head at this turn of events. She had woken up, confused and disoriented, feeling like the world was against her. Now she seemingly had found one, possible two, friends.   
Lockwood and George were sitting in the back of the class, and had saved her a seat. She sunk into it just as the bell rang.   
Lockwood laughed quietly, and twisted in his seat toward her.   
"You always seem to have horrid timing."   
Lucy opened her mouth to reply just as the teacher bellowed out,  
"Hello everyone."   
Lockwood stifled laughter and George grinned at the irony. Lucy grinned sheepishly, turning her attention to the teacher.   
"As you all well know, this a self paced class. You must complete all assignments and lessons throughout the year in preparation for the two end-of-semester exams."   
Lucy was already bored. She normally skimmed a couple of the tougher lessons and blew through the exams, but other than that, completely disregarded maths.   
The teacher sat down at his desk and the class erupted in hushed conversations. Very few got up to get the course material. Lockwood slouched back in his desk, and grinned at Lucy.   
"Math classes are the same all across the country. Nobody cares if you can't find the length of the hypothesis if you can locate a Source."   
George shook his head.   
"It's a hypotenuse."   
Lockwood scoffed good-naturedly at him.   
"I've heard it both ways."   
Lucy shrugged.   
"I guess as long as someone knows how to do these things it's all good and fine. Like architects."   
"That's true. Anyways," Lockwood fixed her with a intent stare, "are you any good with a rapier?"   
Lucy pushed a some stray hairs out of her eyes. The top of her desk suddenly fascinated her.   
George said,  
"I'm going to take that as a 'No'."  
Lucy shook her head.  
"I don't really have anything to compare my skills with. I was the best where I came from, but that means nothing here."   
Lockwood clapped a hand on her shoulder.   
"You either are going to do really well, and astound everyone or, well- just hope your fencing partner is merciful."   
George made a show of looking concerned.   
"Remember poor Robin. He had to be taken to the hospital hall with only half an arm."   
"Don't listen to George. They dull the rapier a to spar with."   
Lucy had a question to ask.  
"What are your Talents?"   
George took his speckles off his round face and rubbed them vigorously with his jumper.   
"You mean psychically? I'm mediocre at all three. Not bad but not really good."  
"I see them the best. I also get death glows, sometimes blindingly. You?"   
"I'm a Listener. Sometimes a bit out Touch but you know how spotty that can be."   
Lockwood smiled brightly when she said this.   
"Perfect."   
George quirked an eyebrow and Lucy grinned quizzically.   
"It's the perfect team."   
He said as if that explained everything.   
Lucy could tell instantly that George was the pessimist and Lockwood was the optimist. They were each other's opposites in many regards and not just personal hygiene.   
George stood, pulling himself out of the desk and said,  
"Well that was a lovely powwow, but I'm off to get my course material and see what a load of rubbish it is."   
As squeezed himself between rows of desks, he called back over his shoulder,  
"Have fun you two."   
There was an awkward moment of silence, followed by an even more awkward question.   
"So who was your girlfriend?"   
Lockwood looked somewhat startled and turned to her.   
"What?"   
"That brunette from this morning?"   
"Angela? She was part of my team for the practicals in our classes last year. Fourth Grade is when we get to pick our own teams," Lockwood glanced at Lucy. "and she was trying to convince me that she needed to be a part of mine."   
"Oh."  
Lockwood sighed exasperatedly in his mind. How many hints could he drop without actually outright asking her, he thought. He inhaled then continued.   
He said it super casually,  
"That being said, we're down one member. Care to join ours?"   
Lockwood carefully studied her face for a reaction. She blinked once, twice, three times. Then she nodded.   
"I don't see why not."   
He ignited his megawatt smile, and was pleased to see her smile back. Was that a hint of reddening in her face he detected?   
Wishful thinking, most likely.   
Lucy had a warm and fuzzy feeling inside for the first time since arriving in London. She was wanted by these people. But she had learned the hard way before about trusting too much in humans. Eventually they find someone better than you, and once again, you find yourself alone. Lucy was smiling at Lockwood and he was smiling back. Let's just see where this takes me, she thought.   
"So..." She dragged the 'O' out in a question.   
He cocked an eyebrow, still grinning.   
"So..." He mimicked her.   
"What are practicals like here?"   
"Same as anywhere else, I think. Fourth Grade is almost all practicals."   
"Good. I don't know how many lectures I can stand."  
"Well you don't have to worry about that next hour. It's rapier practice."   
A shot of nervous adrenaline rushed through Lucy.   
"Fun." She said shortly.   
Just then, George arrived with a load of papers.   
Lockwood gave him a lazy grin.   
"Did you get our course work too?"   
"No, do I look like your secretary?"   
George flopped into a nearby desk and shoved the papers messily into his backpack. Then he looked at Lucy.   
"You should look forward to rapier practice. They'll for sure put you with someone really good to see how you are."   
"Wonderful."  
George pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.   
"Yeah."   
"Come on you two, it's actually fun!"   
George rolled his eyes.   
"Only because you're good."   
"Who knows Lucy, maybe they'll pair us together. Lucy...?"  
Lucy had been staring past Lockwood's shoulders, lost in thought. She had caught Angela's eye, who glared harshly and turned to her friends around her. It looked like they were gossiping. They all four tittered loudly then turned to stare at Lucy.   
She blinked a couple of times then looked at Lockwood.   
"Hm? Sorry, got a bit distracted." 

Math passed too quickly for Lucy's taste, and all too soon the bell rang. She never thought she would think that, ever. But she inwardly dreaded having to spar with someone from the London Agency, someone better than her, someone who would want to make the fool of her. It seemed Lockwood had read her thoughts.   
"Lucy..."  
He stopped her from walking out. George looked back and gave Lockwood a smug, knowing look. Lockwood ignored him.   
He wasn't that much taller than her but she still had to tilt her head up to look him in the eye.   
"Yeah?"   
"I know you'll kick some serious butt."   
Lucy gave a snort of derision.  
"How could you possibly know that?"   
"I'm psychic."   
She rolled her eyes to heaven, but grinned despite herself.   
"That, quite possibly, is the stupidest thing I've ever heard. And I saw the first Twilight movie."   
Lockwood grinned.   
"It was still motivational right?"   
"Barely."   
Lockwood shrugged.   
"I did what I could. I've got to go to my dorm before heading to the gym. You think you can find your way to the locker rooms without being late?"   
Lucy smiled wryly.   
"Maybe."   
"Good luck."   
The he was gone, jogging down the hall, weaving skillfully between the tide of people.   
Lucy had stuffed her gym clothes in her small locker without looking at them, in the locker room a day ago. She only hoped she could find it.   
When she finally did locate the room, she only had a minute to change. That was fine. She could change that quickly because she did it almost every morning before rushing out the door.   
She would have been fine- if it wasn't for the stupid lock. Combination locks are the absolute worst, she thought, as she rattled it loudly. There was an awfully familiar titter behind her, plus a lot of whispering.   
"You need some help?"   
A high, sweet voice sounded behind her. Lucy turned around to find a girl already in the gym uniform, with perfectly smooth dark skin, curly hair neatly in place, with a polite smile on her face.   
"No."   
The girl gave a tinkling laugh then stepped forward, a gave the lock a look.   
"What's your combination?"   
"3672"   
The girl put a slender, perfectly manicured hand on the lock and gave it a swift jolt to the left. It clicked open.   
"How?"   
"The trick is to know which way to tug it."   
"Oh."  
The girl stepped back and gave Lucy an elegant shooing motion.   
"Hurry or you'll be late. I'm Holly Monroe by the way."   
"Lucy Carlyle."  
Lucy turned her attention to the clothing at hand. They were simple black running pants and a short sleeved white shirt. Both, of course had the symbol of the Academy on them.   
No time to be picky. She stripped and flung them on. The shoes were just as standard. The bell rang just as she was tying her second shoe. Great, she though sarcastically.   
She sprinted out, and to the center of the gymnasium. It was huge with lots and lots of faceless training dummies and mats for sparing. The whole of the Fourth years were already assembled. The instructor had not began class yet so she got lucky.   
She found Lockwood and George, outfitted in the same uniform as she was.   
Lockwood grinned, impressed.   
"You made it."  
"You doubted me?"  
George frowned.   
"We had a bet. Lockwood said you would make it fully dressed and before class started."  
"George, you owe me five pounds."  
Lockwood nudged George in the ribs,   
"This is what you get for not believing in people."  
George just shrugged,  
"Being pessimist is fine with me. I'm either always right or pleasantly surprised."   
Before Lockwood or Lucy could comment on the paradox, class started.   
"Hello Fourth years, and welcome back. I am Mr. Rotwell as I'm sure all of you remember. Well, all of you except one..."  
Lucy felt a horrible jolting sensation in her gut. Any second now he could call her out. She set her jaw and glared fiercely ahead, hands in fits at her side.   
"Lucy Carlyle, please step to the front. Everyone else, get your warmups done."  
She dimly was aware that Lockwood said something in hushed tone. Trying to look unperturbed and in control, Lucy walked forward.   
"Miss Carlyle I have never seen you fence. You did pass your Third Grade rapier practice class?"   
This, of course, was a rhetorical question. Lucy wouldn't even be at the Academy if she hadn't passed.   
"Yes sir."   
"After we break to warm up, know that you are going to be the first to spar with someone."   
"Yes sir." He started to walk off but she stopped him.   
"Who is it going to be?" At a glance from Mr. Rotwell she hurriedly added, "-sir?"   
"Who's who going to be?"   
"You said 'spar with someone', and I just want to know who."   
A frown deeped his face, and it was obvious the the question displeased him.   
"It'll be me if you aren't careful."   
"Yes sir."  
"Now get going!" He barked. "You have five minutes Carlyle."  
Lucy found Lockwood and George, doing standard warmups, or at least she guessed.   
Lockwood dusted his pants off, and grinned at her.   
"How'd it go?"   
"I'm sparing with an unknown person in five minutes. Also, I think I got on his bad side."   
Lockwood grimaced for her, but George just shrugged.   
"Only a select few aren't, so you're in good company. Lockwood and I are good examples."  
Lucy walked over to the nearest rack of rapiers and grabbed a random one.   
"Well, how do London people normally warmup?"   
A lopsided grin appeared on Lockwood's face.   
"You do a bit of prancing here," In a fencer's pose, he shuffled around the training dummy, rapier at the ready. "and some waving around," He struck the dummy like a viper, left hand behind him to counter his stroke. ",don't forget a fake or two," He twisted to the right and feinted. "then, you know, a bit of this and that," his hand cut in swift movements that were hard to follow, some complicated ward knot.   
George just rolled his eyes, and Lucy couldn't help but share in the sarcasm.   
"Just a bit of haphazard movements really? That's all that's too it? Wow."   
Lockwood shrugged, obviously pleased with himself.   
Lucy hefted the light weight sword in her hands and stared at the dummy, still swinging slightly from Lockwood's attacks.   
"Well what are you waiting for? You don't have a lot of time."  
"Yeah yeah."   
Lucy got in position, and made a few standard cuts, a feint, then a twisted away as if dodging an opposing stroke. She crouched low, then slashed a backhand attack. The dummy jerked on its chain.   
She paused to wipe perspiration from her forehead, and look at the boys.   
Lockwood was the first to speak,  
"That last move was really unorthodox. Where'd you learn it."   
Lucy chuckled lightly, and shrugged.   
"It's not really that I learned it from a teacher, more from trial and error actually. There was this huge guy in my fencing class, and well-"  
Lucy was cut off by a shout from the middle of the room. A slightly built younger man, with red hair, thin face, and a blingy rapier bedazzled with fake jewels, was standing on a sparring mat. He looked around expectantly.   
"Lucy Carlyle, come forward with your choice in training rapier."  
Grimacing, George noted,  
"That's Quill Kipps. He's a grad, good fencer but not the best. He's also a pig-nosed, pimple-faced, pompous idiot."  
This assessment earned a chorus of laughter from Lockwood and Lucy.   
Lockwood looked down at the sword in her hand and shook his head.   
"That'll never do. Here," he offered his to her. She took it.   
"Thanks."  
Quill Kipps was standing tall and proud waiting for Lucy as she walked forward. A crowd gathered around the mat.   
"This is how it works Carlyle. You step off the mat and you lose, you're disarmed and you lose."  
A voice from the assembly shouted,  
"Bets on how long she lasts?"  
"15 seconds!"  
"That's a bit farfetched! I'd say 10."  
Laughter erupted. Lucy took a fighting stance.   
"Ready when you are, Quill Kipps."  
Lucy noted with disdain the patronizing smile he wore, as he struck a similar fencing stance.   
"Ready."  
Lucy waited to see what kind of fighter Kipps was. He either would rush in for a surprise attack or would hang back and bide his time.  
He waited, and studied her stance, raising an eyebrow as if to silently criticize it.   
She feinted forward, but he didn't give any ground.   
"Come on Carlyle. I'm not an idiot, I would fall for such a obvious-"   
She didn't wait for him to finish, she lunged forward in her first real attack.   
He was taken slightly aback and gave way a half a pace. Then he countered, keeping on the defensive. She darted in and out, always on her toes, enough to annoy him but not doing much.   
She was baiting him into an offensive stroke.   
She saw it coming and parried it, but stepped back. Giving ground, inching closer and closer to the edge of the platform, she was only vaguely aware of people cheering and shouting. Kipps seemed to hear it though, and was goaded by the crowds chanting to go for the final stroke Lucy had been waiting for.   
He went for a stabbing strike to her chest, that she would have to dodge. She twisted out of the way, feigning a loss of balance. She fell on her butt, close but not off the mat. She let her rapier slip out of her fingers. Quill Kipps' blade was now inches from her face.   
The crowd roared its approval. Kipps grinned around, drinking it in. But Lucy wasn't done. Loopholes were Lucy's forte, and he had left a massive hole where winning and losing was concerned. She pushed the blade out of her face, moving like lightning, coming up to a crouch. She spun, sweeping Quill Kipps right off his feet. She grabbed her rapier, as well as Kipps' dropped one and pointed them at his face. The whole of the room screamed, gasped, and shouted in disbelief. Lucy, within the space of five seconds, had reversed the situation.   
Kipps was vexed to say it in the least.   
"You can't do that!" He spluttered indignantly.   
"Oh, but I can. You specifically said I only lost when my rapier was in your hands, or when I was off the mat."   
The crowd acted as one, staring at Lucy, then, starting with one person in the back, they began to clap; slowly at first, but increasing in volume, soon people were whooping and hollering. As she was clapped on the shoulder by the multitude of people who had been betting on her failure, she thought of something she had read a long time ago, that the human memory is short and fickle.  
Pushing through the crowd, Lockwood and George finally found her, still next to a fuming Kipps.   
The former was grinning so widely that he could have been the Cheshire Cat, but George was the first to speak.   
"That was the best thing I've seen in awhile."   
"Agreed."   
Lucy was about to say something on the lines of a humble "I know right" when she spotted a moving form shoving violently through the noisy students.   
Mr. Rotwell had stepped up onto the sparring mat and was trying to calm the crowd. His face was red with anger.   
"Quiet!" He roared.   
They silenced, mumbling and shuffling guiltily.   
He turned to Lucy. She noted a throbbing vein in his neck. He spoke slowly, dangerously.  
"Carlyle,that was the most blatant disregard for rules and authority I have seen in all my years."   
His anger was a leather fist on a coil, tightening and tightening, until something sprung the switch, delivering the blow. It was the coil you feared, not the fist.   
This is what kept the biting reply from spilling out of her mouth. Mr. Rotwell obviously had some anger issues he was working through. It would be a crying shame to be the cause of his lost control.   
She was silent.   
"That being said, I have no idea how you passed Third Grade fencing. You will either have to take extra courses or face expulsion." Lucy noted the sudden intake of breath from Lockwood, just beside her.   
Gritting her teeth, she tried to remain calm.   
"Yes sir."  
"That's all. Get out of my sight."   
The three of them started to walk off, but Rotwell put a firm hand on Lockwood's shoulder.   
"Not you."   
George and Lucy frowned at Lockwood who shrugged helpless, then was led away by Rotwell.   
They returned to the station they had warmed up at.   
Lucy let her frustration out on the dummy, slashing fiercely with her rapier.   
"Woah what did it ever do to you?"  
"I hate him already."  
"Who? The training dummy?"  
"No! Rotwell."  
George leaned against the rack of rapiers, and rubbed his glass's lens rigorously.   
"Only those on his good list even pretend to stand him."   
Lucy stabed the dummy right in its stomach, and left it there. She turned to George, and gave the bottle up tirade.   
"I mean, Kipps gave me the rules, and I followed them to the letter! No one said, "Lucy don't sweep kick your opponents legs. It's rude." He was mocking me to begin with. If he didn't want me to try my damnedest, then he shouldn't have bloody-"  
A tap on her shoulder stopped her, mid sentence.   
She whipped around, hands on her hips, hair flying.   
"What-! Oh, hi Lockwood..."  
George muttered something under his breath, probably something cheeky and sarcastic. Lucy didn't catch it all.   
"What did Rotwell want?"   
"He said he wants to enter me in a tournament with a couple other people, then he declared that he hated me."   
All three of them chuckled together.   
Just as she was feeling better, something always had to spoil it. Angela strutted forward, as if the gym clothes she was wearing, same as everyone else, was a ball gown.   
She stopped, flanked perfectly by three other girls. Lucy caught a whiff of hairspray and too much expensive perfume.   
"Hi Lockwood, I just heard you got into the Carthage Tournament, congrats. Maybe we can do a bit of one on one training. I need a good tutor."   
"I've seen you fence and yes you really do." George said it just loud enough for Lucy to hear. She stifled loud, ugly laughter.   
But Lockwood was all politeness. He even smiled.   
"Sorry Angela, I really can't. Busy with my team, and preparing for practicals."   
Angela didn't seem disheartened in anyway.   
"Actually, I've heard we need four team members this year. Maybe I can-"   
"-nope sorry we have a fourth."   
George and Lockwood turned sharply to her. But she pushed on.   
Lucy thought it was high time she put an end to this. She really couldn't work with that girl without wanting to kick her into next week.   
Angela's already fake smile turned into a frown with her teeth bared. It looked pasted on.   
"Really?"   
Her voice pitched an octave higher.   
"Who?"   
"Holly Monroe."   
"Really. Wow..."  
Angela turned to her girls, and as if on cue, they twittered lightly.   
She waltzed off, but not before winking at Lockwood.   
Lucy watched her retreating form, then turned back to the impaled dummy.   
She felt the both boy's eyes on her as she braced her foot on the dummy and pulled, tumbling back as the rapier came free.   
"Lucy..."  
"...who is Holly Monroe?"   
Lockwood started, then George finished the question.   
She sighed.   
"Just this girl who helped me in the locker room with my lock. She seemed competent and nice, relatively. Maybe a little bit of a perfectionist."   
She scanned the room and spotted the perfect dark hair at the other end of the room.   
"I'll introduce you."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Much mystery. Such Locklyle. :)

Angela, of course, had a head start on the gossip chain. A whole thirty seconds was all it took for whispers to fly around the room, and people glanced at them as the walked by.   
Holly daintily dabbed at the sweat on her brow, but she smiled as she spotted them, which Lucy took to either mean that she hadn't heard the rumors or she was playing it off really well. Lucy hoped for the latter.   
"Hey Lucy. Nice fencing match against Kipps ,by the way. That took his ego down a notch or two."   
The two girls laughed while Lockwood gave an uncertain smile. George was studying Holly, the same way he did when he met Lucy.   
"Holly meet Lockwood," she gestured to the taller boy, "and George."   
"Pleased to meet you."   
Holly shook both boys hands.   
"From the questions I just got asked by them," she pointed to a group of students who hastily tried to pretend they weren't eavesdropping, "I guess we're a team for practicals?"   
Holly looked at the three of them. The boys looked at Lucy. Lucy looked at the boys. Then she turned to Holly.   
"Yes."   
Holly smiled at them.   
"Then we better get to training."  
After doing standard rapier drills for the next hour and a half, the girls and guys parted ways to get out of their sticky, sweaty clothes.   
It turns Holly takes a long time to get dressed, and Lucy, being unsure of where their friendship stood, waited for her. They emerged out of the locker room and into the gym long after the other girls had. Rotwell glared at them on their way out. Lucy glared back.   
The next class was one of Lucy's least favorites. It was called Sensitivity Tuning by the teachers and emotional trauma by the general student body.   
One basically encountered different Types of ghosts in a controlled environment, touched psychically charged items in an attempt to connect with the past, and other things to "tune your Talents".   
As she walked in, the first thing that stood out to her was the array of ghost jars and other Seals. Ectoplasm swirled in most of the jars, and she got a disconcerting whispering in her inner ear. None of her new friends were in this class so she chose a seat at the back of the class, and hoped no one would speak to her.   
The teacher, Miss Fittes, gave her teachery spiel on safety and such, then told the students to pair off.   
Lucy sighed. Of course, she thought wryly.   
"Hey, new girl, wanna be partners?"   
She looked at the person in question. A thin boy, with an equally thin, long face. He was sitting in the seat in front of her.   
"I'm Ted Daley."   
"Er- sure."   
Miss Fittes passed around a tray with various items on it. All of them were not dangerous but held echoes of the dead, and it was crucial to know which one to pick, or you end up screaming and crying in front of the whole class. Lesson learned. Second Year.   
Lucy chose a faded ribbon, that might once have been red.   
As soon as she touched it, deep sadness welled up inside her.   
"Don't touch them yet!"  
Lucy jerked her hand away, not because the teacher had told her to, but because her eyes had already pooled with tears. This was going to be a long class period.   
\---  
She hadn't ended up breaking down mentally, or screaming in terror during class. That was a plus. She was in a rush to get out of the class, so as she whipped her bag around, it knocked a ghost jar off a table.   
"Miss Carlyle!"   
"Sorry Miss Fittes. I've got it."   
Cringing, she bent to pick it up and make sure it wasn't cracked. It was fine. She might have never noticed the partially open lever if the ghost inside hadn't spoke to her.   
Dumb clumsy kid.   
"Excuse me?"   
Miss Fittes looked at her like she had grown three heads.   
"I didn't say anything. You better get going."  
Throaty laughter filled her ears.   
Dumb kid can hear me.   
Reeling in shock, Lucy stumbled into a near-by desk.   
"Are you quite okay Miss Carlyle."   
In an attempt at casualness, Lucy gave a fake laugh.   
"Good thing my name is Lucy and not Grace."   
Miss Fittes was still frowning, and followed Lucy with her eyes as she walked out.   
You'll be back. We have a lot to discuss.   
The voice echoed in her ear. No one else seemed to hear it.   
The next day, Lucy stole the skull in the jar.   
That was before she knew how snarky it was. Now she half regretted the decision.   
George was fascinated.   
"You said it spoke before it knew you could hear it."  
Lucy nodded.   
All four of them were in the Student Rec building, slumped on the well worn couches. This was the one building in the whole of the Academy that didn't feel fake. The couches were older and saggy, the floor scuffed and slightly dirty. The chatter of students playing various games, laughing, and generally enjoying themselves was a welcome atmosphere change. The skull was tucked away in Lucy's huge backpack.   
"What if Type Threes aren't as rare as people make them out to be, we just don't have Listeners who can hear them well enough?"   
Lucy shrugged, while moving her legs over the arm of the big armchair, slouching back.   
"Who can tell? I just know that that skull is vile. It's got a worse attitude then Angela."   
Lockwood leaned down to peer at the jar in her bag.   
"It seems active."   
Do I now?   
Lucy's eyes widened.   
"What?"   
"It just spoke again." She said it slowly, but the effect on the others was immediate.   
Lockwood and Holly sat forward more attentively, and George scrambled for a sheet of paper.   
I've got an audience now. Perfect.   
"What'd it say Luce?"   
Lucy was momentarily distracted, busy grinning at the nickname.   
"Nothing much Locky."   
Holly laughed.   
"Wait what?"   
Lockwood was confused, eyebrows scrunching together. George was frustrated because this was a waste of time.   
"You just called me Luce."   
"Oh...did I? Do you mind?"   
"No, I was just teasing."   
Oh please spare the love fest.   
Lucy couldn't help the blush creeping up her face.   
"Shut it skull."   
"Now you have to tell us what it said."  
Burning an even deeper red, she repeated the skull.   
\----------------------------  
It was only a month later when The Incident happened. Lucy loves to pretend it never happened all the while constantly thinking about it. Lockwood seemed too distracted with the actual case to think about it.   
The Incident, to be told properly and fully, starts with the day Lucy finally got detention. Of course, it was in Rotwell's class.   
Mr. Rotwell was that teacher; the grammar nazi and police of the bathroom. There's one in ever school. The one who picks favorites and least favorites, who never quite justifies the grades given, who is quick to call students out. Unfortunately, Lucy Carlyle grated on his nerves past the point of extreme. Even if Carlyle was the perfect angel of a student (she wasn't), he still would have been hypercritical. He couldn't blow up at her all the time or risk being fired. But he took consolation in the fact that he could make her life miserable. It was one of the small joys he found in life.   
Lucy just wanted to go to the bathroom. That's all. But nope, Rotwell needed to give his express permission. He was legit the only teacher to do this.   
The conversation went something like this:  
Lucy walked calmly up to him and said,  
"Can I go to the bathroom?"   
He met her gaze and gave a smug little smile.   
"Can you?"   
He meant to correct her grammar, and not give an open challenge. But Lucy look every opportunity handed to her.   
"Yes."   
She said simply. Then she walked off.   
Rotwell raised his voice to an angry splutter.   
"Carlyle! Get back here."  
It was Lucy's turn to give a smug smile.   
"You asked me if I could, and yes, I am perfectly capable. That question was rather vague."   
The students around who had stopped to watch laughed.   
Rotwell seethed with annoyance.   
"You need to learn when to stop Carlyle. That's detention. Be here right after school."  
The students around looked at each other, passing and did what teenage students do best. They gossiped.   
The consequence of this was that the grapevine was faster than the speed of Lucy walking back to her friends.   
"Detention?"   
"Yeah."   
Lucy sighed, then shrugged.   
"Oh well. I could have gotten worse.  
It's right after school until who knows when."   
Lockwood groaned.   
"We need you for practicals tomorrow, we have to study tonight."  
"I know, I know. Sorry."   
Lucy's last class of the day was English, because, even in a age where children grew up to fight manifestations of the dead, they still needed to speak, read and write.   
As it ended, she had to part ways with Lockwood and Holly. George wasn't in their class.   
"Good luck."   
"Hope he doesn't keep you for too long."   
Lucy walked against the crowd to Rotwell's office. It was attached to the gym, and only had a couple of chairs.   
"Listen up Carlyle. I'm not taking any funny business from you. Wait here while I get the custodian. You're going to be cleaning. Don't touch anything."  
He slammed the door on the way out. Lucy looked around the neat office, fully intending not to follow directions.   
She headed to the desk and opened up the first drawer. Nothing interesting. Pens, pencils, notepad. The other drawers yielded nothing of interest either. Files, students test results, and other teachery stuff. Lucy didn't exactly know what she was looking for, but she still searched.   
She ran a hand under the top of the desk, and, to her suprise, her hand felt a latch.   
A rush of adrenaline shot through her system as a hidden drawer popped into view. She darted her head around, looking and listening for Rotwell's return.   
"Let's see what you're hiding..." she muttered quietly to herself.   
The drawer was small and shallow, not holding anything except an opened envelope. Lucy opened it quickly with nimble fingers and read the short note inside.   
Meet me tonight. Same time, same place. 

Her eyes widened with the implications of this short note, and a hundred theories flooded her mind.   
She only stood immobile in shock for a couple seconds before common sense and logic kicked in. She replaced the note and shut the drawer completely. She just made it to the chair she had previously been sitting on and arranged herself to look bored and casual, as the door opened.   
"Carlyle get going. I've told the custodian that you can go as soon you've finished."   
She was buzzing with energy and excitement, so finishing the tasks (scraping gun off the underside of desks, scrubbing toilets and dusting bookshelves) wasn't too hard.   
As soon as she made it to the student rec room, she was just about bursting with the need to tell someone about her discovery.   
"Oh there she is! Lucy over here!"   
She walked quickly over even though her limbs were sore from the scrubbing.   
"How was detention?"   
"Oh never mind that! I found something very interesting in Rotwell's office desk."   
Lockwood sat forward, interested. George perked up too.   
"What?"   
"A note. All it said was, 'meet me tonight. same time, same place.'"  
George had removed his glasses to rub them on his sweater.   
"Meaning that this person has met with him before, at night, while everyone else is asleep."   
Holly scrunched up her nose.   
"Meaning it's likely illegal."   
Lockwood's smile dawned slowly.   
"Meaning that have to be there when they meet."   
George, Holly and Lucy all looked quickly at him.   
Holly was shaking her head slightly.   
"Shouldn't we just go to another teacher? Miss Fittes maybe?"   
But George grimaced in reply.  
"No that's no good. What if that teacher is in on it? Can't trust anyone now."   
Lucy nodded.   
"I agree."  
George had a thought, and his grimace deeped.   
"We don't know the where or when..."  
Lockwood thought for a moment then said,  
"Well, we know it's tonight. Frankly, I don't think it'll be too hard to spot a shady meeting going down, especially with Rotwell. He's no small man, if you know what I mean."   
Holly opened her mouth to speak, then shut it, as if rethinking it. Then she spoke up.   
"I don't think I'm really cut out for that. Sneaking out, looking for two possible dangerous criminals."   
Lucy nodded in understanding, and George found himself opting out but for different reasons.   
"I'm not very sneaky. It's quite obvious that it's going to have to be you two."   
Lockwood and Lucy looked at each other, looking for any hesitation or fear in the others face, and found none.   
Instead they both grinned.   
"I'm game."   
"Let's do it."  
They met outside Lucy's dorm, Lockwood leaning causally against the wall as she slipped through the heavy door.   
They ghosted quietly up to the main school house, as silently as a Specter.   
Lockwood whispered.   
"What do you think Luce, inside or outside?"   
She thought for a moment then gestured to the door.   
"Don't use the key yet. Its supposed to be locked, so if it's not someone is inside."   
Lockwood grinned.   
"Someone's been hanging out with George."   
"You've been friends with him longer than me and you've still haven't managed to match him."   
"Defiantly hanging out with George."   
He tugged at the door, and it swung open.   
"Inside it is."   
They creeped inside, shutting the door silently behind them.   
Lockwood gestured for her to follow him. The main build of the school was rather confusing, as Lucy discovered on her first day.   
But luck was on their side, at least for the moment.   
As Lockwood peaked around a corner, he stiffed, then turned back to Lucy.   
He breathed in her ear,  
"They're right there."   
She nodded, and they crept to the corner again, and looked around.   
Rotwell and the unknown person were at the end of the next hall, and visibly arguing.   
"Who is that?"   
"No idea."   
They couldn't get closer because, though they were out of whispering ear shot, the hall was open space.   
As they watched, the arugument grew more and more heated, and now the shouting was audible.   
"I asked you to do a simple task, and you couldn't even produce one! Not one!"   
"Relic men are always cheating and unreliable. How was i supposed to know that-"   
"No-!..."   
The shouting became indistinguishable again, and Lockwood and Lucy looked at each other in amazement.   
"Relic men?"   
"produce one?"   
"Wait look Rotwell is leaving. And he's heading...right for us!"   
They backed away from the corner then turned around. The hall was so long, and they would never be able to reach the next bend silently.   
Lockwood opened the nearest door, and beckoned Lucy over.   
They slipped inside the tiny broom closet, shutting out all light except the thin sliver under the door.   
Lucy could barely seen Lockwood's face, but she knew they had to be very close.   
She could hear his breathing. She could hear Rotwell's footsteps grow louder and louder, then start to quiet. He was headed away. Lucy could afford to step a little away from Lockwood. She had been feeling a little too warm. But the closet was tiny, and contained a number of cleaning supplies.   
As she backed away, a broom clattered to the floor, upsetting the others on the way down.   
The racket sounded like a sonic boom to Lucy with the previous hush.   
Both teens froze.   
Rotwell's footsteps did too. Then they started growing louder again.   
They would be caught for sure, and Rotwell would have to ask the logical question. Why would two students sneak out, and be found alone, in a broom closet, at night?   
Lockwood reached the most obvious solution before Lucy.   
He stepped close quickly, and Lucy instantly felt flushed again. He put his hands on the wall behind Lucy. She was cornered. His face was only inches from her's.   
"Lockwood what are you doing?"   
"Trust me."   
And then he kissed her, full on the lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MUHAHAHA! Fun writes! All of you wonderful readers make me very happy! 
> 
> much love,
> 
> Sparkle


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An ending, of sorts. I may come back and keep posting but for now here it is.

It was only a couple of heartbeats, but Lucy became hyper aware of everything in that moment. Aware of the feeling of his lips on hers; aware of every inch of his body touching hers. Then suddenly, she was aware of the closet door being torn open. Pale light flooded in, and Lockwood jumped away.

Rotwell stood in the doorway, looking even more menacing with the knowledge of his doings at the school tonight.

He growled angrily.

"Carlyle, Lockwood...I should have suspected as much."

He dragged them out by the collars of their shirts, and glared at them.

"Detention. For weeks. I don't ever want to see you two out after hours, or it's going to be expulsion for both of you."

He dragged them to their dorms, and gave them some more choice words. For once, Lucy didn't give a sarcastic or witty reply. She was too much in shock with the events of the last couple hours.

Detention.

Rotwell's secret message.

Sneaking out.

The argument with the mystery man.

Lockwood kissing her.

But Lockwood seemed totally calm, even throughout the verbal thrashing they received.

They didn't get a chance to speak until morning, at breakfast.

The messy hall was crammed and noisy with the early morning crowd.

Lucy is always a little late to the party, not being a morning person, especially that morning, with staying up super late.

As she plopped down beside George, the conversation had already began.

"So you didn't recognize the other guy with Rotwell?"

"No. He had no real unique features. Very nondescript, wouldn't you say, Luce?"

"Hm? Yeah for sure."

Holly handed her a mug of perfectly made coffee.

"Oh bless. Thanks."

"You didn't seem fully awake."

You had trouble sleeping didn't you Lucy? Too busy thinking. Not about the case.

The skull cackled.

Lucy didn't bother giving a reply.

"So how do you think we can figure out what they're doing?"

Lockwood forked a bit of kippers thoughtfully.

"I suppose it has everything to do with being in the right place at the right time. We really need to keep our eyes and ears open."

The other three nodded.

Lucy looked at Rotwell eating at the staff table. She wondered what he was hiding; she determined right then and there that that was all that was bothering her about what happened last night. For sure.

The four separated for their various first period classes, and Lucy faced the terrors of teen gossip and rumors alone.

Maybe she had been too tired to see it at breakfast, but as she walked down the hall, people turned to whisper to their neighbor.

"I heard that she and Lockwood..."

"...are they even dating?..."

"detention for a month..."

"I wonder how Angela is going to deal with it..."

What did Angela have to do with it?

Lucy ignored it all, or at least tried to.

She was again stuck at the very front of the room, and listening to the teacher attempt to lecture over the sea of whispers coming from behind Lucy.

Until the spit ball sailed out of nowhere, hitting Lucy in the hair. A malicious whisper came from right behind her.

"Antony Lockwood is a player, Carlyle. Don't think because you hooked up once that he cares about you."

Anger bubbled up inside her.

She shot a quick look over her shoulder at the speaker. It was a girl with makeup caked on by the layer, blouse buttons mostly undone, and a simpering grin on her face. She could take her, wanted to punch her right in her nose. But she shoudn't, or risk expulsion.

As the bell rang, she hurried out of the classroom, fighting the rage building inside of her.

She was the first one out, so consequently she bumped into the person waiting outside.

"- Lockwood?"

He grinned causally at her, and her anger cooled. He sounded excited,

"Holly found our mystery man."

"What? How?"

They moved to the side so the class still leaving the room could pass.

He lowered his voice, but still maintained the causal posture.

"We were walking to the outside classrooms, when a delivery van drove up and parked."

Lucy frowned,

"So...?"

"So...he was the driver!"

Lucy's eyes widened in surprise as he continued,

"Of course we couldn't just let him wander off without us following him."

"You skipped class...without me?"

Lockwood laughed but continued.

"Holly is obviously the best at impromptu conversation, so she pretty much passively interrogated him."

"And what'd she get?"

"Some lie about salt and lavender deliveries."

Lucy sighed exasperatedly, throwing her hands in the air.

"Then what was the point? All we know is that he successfully made his illegal transaction. We don't have proof."

But Lockwood was still grinning.

"You haven't told me everything, have you?"

"Let's just say while our mystery man, a Mr. Jonson, was speaking with Holly, I took a peak into his van."

"Of course you did. And?"

"Sources. He packed them all in with iron, but there are tons of them."

Lucy grimaced in frustration.

"What is Rotwell even planning on doing with them?"

"Looks like we're going to need to do a bit more snooping in Rotwell's office."

The bell rang and they both started.

Lockwood grinned sheepishly.

"I'm guessing that's going to be another detention."

They both rushed their different ways.

Lucy's next clue came in the form of average teenage gossip.

She was largely ignoring the chatter before Sensitivity Tuning, but Ted Daley said something about Rotwell's company and financing.

"Wait what was that?"

"Don't you read the news? Rotwell's company is having to let agents go because of money reasons. Size down and all that. Maybe one of their inventions went really wrong?"

"Maybe..."

But Lucy's mind had jumped somewhere else. Rotwell was going bankrupt, which was as good motive as any for illegal activity.

She had to tell the others, and of course their next class together was Rotwell's fencing class.

She changed in a rush and hurried to find her friends before Rotwell could begin class.

"Guys. Rotwell is bankrupt."

Holly just shrugged, not overly awed.

"Yeah actually my dad told me the other day that some of his coworkers were fired because of budget cuts."

But George groaned and faced palmed.

"Why didn't I think of that before. Its got something to do with his scheme for the Sources."

Lockwood and Holly finally showed some signs of surprise or understanding.

Lockwood spoke grimly.

"That just confirms in my mind what we have to do. Search his office and find proof."

The other three agreed.

Detention was dangerous. Lucy and Lockwood did all they could to keep their heads down and scrub in silence. Rotwell took every opportunity to make it hell.

Nobody else was in the school, save the teachers here and there, and the very rare student.

After what seemed an eternity, he said,

"You're both done."

They signed in relief, and turned to leave, but he called them back.

"If I ever so much see a hair from your head here after hours, you will be expelled."

He got right up in their faces, and growled,

"You two ask too many questions."

All politeness, Lockwood replied curtly,

"Are you implying there's something to ask questions about, sir?"

Rotwell and Lockwood stood there, in the middle of the hall, staring each other down, for a good twenty seconds. Then Rotwell said,

"I know your type kid. You stick your nose in situations that you should stay out of. Too much pride and arrogance. Stay out of my way, or someone could get hurt."

"Is that a threat, sir?"

Lucy gazed switched between them, as she realized that Lockwood wasn't going to back down. She should've guessed.

"Just know that I'm keeping an eye on you two. Get."

With that, Rotwell took his exit. Lockwood turned to Lucy.

"Well we've certainly got him on edge. Let's get the others."

Rotwell's office was exactly the same as it had been the time before, so the first thing Lucy did was check the hidden drawer. The note was still there, but there was another piece of paper in addition to this.

"Look at this".

The others gather around her as she held the paper up.

"It's encrypted."

"George, can you crack it?"

"Probably."

Holly started searching the bookshelf for clues, her flash light swinging randomly to light up the dark room, while Lucy and Lockwood studied the layout of the room.

"There's got to be a place they keep all the Sources...a hidden room maybe?"

Lucy twisted in a circle, pointing her flashlight beam all around.

"If there's one thing I've learned in my months here, it's that this school's architecture is confused. There're probably hidden passages everywhere."

"Then what are we waiting for? You start on that side and we'll work around opposite sides to the middle."

Lucy started by tapping on the walls, listening for the tell-tell hollow sound, then she moved all the picture frames, looking for anything. Her search yielded nothing. Half an hour later, a bright light blinded her for a moment, and Lockwood clicked it off sheepishly.

"Sorry. Find anything?"

"Nope."

"Holly?"

"Negative."

"George?"

He didn't answer right away, and they all looked at him. His brow was crinkled in concentration, his flashlight in his mouth, hand scribbling furiously in a notebook.

"I think...I think I've got something."

The others gathered expectantly around the light of his flash light.

"It's a rather easy code, but ingenuous if you don't know anything about cracking codes. It envolves a sequence of randomly generated numbers, but two or three letters to throw off-"

Lucy cut him off.

"What does it say?"

George grumbled under his breath about appreciation and brains, but answered anyway.

"It's an address. Or rather a series of addresses. Covers a small portion of Chelsea."

They stood for a couple seconds in silence, pondering. Lucy happened to look up.

"I think we've forgotten about one thing."

They turned to her, and she pointed up at the ceiling.

"Most people don't think to look up."

"Luce," breathed Lockwood excitedly ",you're a genius."

George protested, annoyed.

"I just cracked an encryption and she's the genius, sure sure. I see double standards are at work here."

Lucy, dragging the big office chair to the center of the room, missed the looks Holly and George were giving Lockwood.

He just scratched his nose, ignoring them.

Lucy stepped onto it, wobbling slightly on the spinning chair.

"Here I got you."

Holly steadied the chair. Lucy grinned in relief.

"Thanks."

She pushed her hand up, feeling along the top of the ceiling. George and Lockwood shone their lights up as well.

"What's this?"

Lucy reached far out over the chair to grab a thin, short cord.

George shook his head,

"Luce I really wouldn't, if you do-"

Lucy tugged hard on the cord, and a hidden trap door sung open. Already off balance, the force of her pull made her lose her balance. Holly gasped as she fell.

Fortunately for her, Lockwood was right underneath her. Unfortunately for Lockwood, he was unprepared for her fall.

She ended up accidentally full body tackling him.

They both hit the floor noisily.

"-you'll fall."

Holly cringed, asking,

"You two okay?"

Lucy rolled off him quickly, face burning in embarrassment, thanking the heavens she had left the skull in her dorm.

Lockwood recovered his breath, and waved his hand, as if the wave off the concern.

"Fine, fine."

Lucy held out a hand to help him up, and he was up and bouncing toward the trapdoor in a moment.

"Now let's find out what Rotwell is hiding."

He climbed on the chair, with perfect balance, and poked his head into the attic place.

"Someone hand me a flash light. Thanks." He was so wrapped up in the moment of discovery that he didn't hear the office door open. The other three froze in shock. He continued happily,

"This is insane. Hold on you guys have to see this. It all makes sense."

"What could you possibly mean?"

A new voice voice sounded from below.

Lockwood bent his head down to see Rotwell and the other man causally pointing rapiers at his friends throats.

He jumped lightly down, and said in a jaunty way,

"Oh hello Rotwell. Fancy meeting you here."

A vein throbbed in Rotwell's forehead as he thrust his rapier closer to Lucy's throat.

"Didn't I say someone was going to end up hurt? It would be a shame if Lucy Carlyle met her tragic end because you couldn't keep your nose out of other peoples business."

"So what do you want me to do? Come quietly?"

The other man, Mr. Jonson, gestured at the rapier Lockwood had been causally inching towards.

"For starters, if you make another move toward that weapon, one of your friends won't see the light of day."

Lockwood sighed.

"Enough with the threats, we get it. The rapiers to the throat spell it out."

George piped up.

"We know you are buying Sources from relic men."

Rotwell glared around at them, thinking.

"Out. Walk."

The two men forced them to walk, hands out in the open, down the hall.

Lockwood talked while they marched, probably to their deaths, if someone couldn't come up with something.

"Being the sole owner of a company is hard work isn't it? Everything is your work, finances including. Your business hasn't been doing too hot, with budget cuts and Fittes right on your heels. You needed some case that Rotwell could be front cover of. So you planned your own. That's what the Sources are for, and the addresses. Starting an outbreak in Chelsea any time soon?"

Rotwell was caught off guard, so Lucy took the opportunity to spin, and aim a roundhouse kick at his face. It hit full on. Rotwell stumbled back, hands flying to his injured nose and eye.

Lockwood darted in, grabbing the rapier dropped as the bigger man fell.

He was quick enough to parry the blow sent by Jonson.

Lucy called to Holly and George,

"Someone find an adult. Preferably one with some common sense."

Holly nodded and rushed off, dark hair flying behind her.

Lucy backed away from the sparring pair in the direction of the fallen Rotwell, George in the opposite direction.

Lockwood was going to win. Jonson was obviously not the most skilled, and gave way to blow after blow. Lockwood feinted and Jonson flinched, then came in with a disarming move. His opponent's rapier sailed into the air and away from him.

George laughed a little, but stopped as he saw what was happening behind the fight and behind Lucy.

"Lucy look out!"

Rotwell had recovered from the kick reached out a huge hand to pull Lucy off balance. She crashed to the ground, but he grabbed her by the collar and dragged her upright, choking her slightly. She cried out in pain.

His other hand grabbed her arm in a grip she knew could become very painful in an instant.

Lockwood whipped around, but kept his rapier trained on Jonson.

"You are hilarious Anthony Lockwood."

No one was laughing. Rotwell sounded desperate and angry, a dangerous combination.

"You thought you and three other kids could manage to stop what I've been doing for years."

Lucy eyes widened at the confession. Rotwell laughed, a bit crazed, into the silence.

"That's right. Can't have an Agency without The Problem. If it needs a little bit of a push that's fine. Planted Sources will do the trick. If I have to throttle anyone in my way, well, all is fair in war." As he said the word 'war' he moved the other hand to Lucy's neck. All he had to do was tighten his hands and she would begin to suffocate slowly.

Lockwood and George looked at each other, communicating silently.

Then Lockwood unexpectedly swung around and punched Jonson square in the temple. He collapsed like a house of cards.

Then he stepped forward to face Rotwell.

"You got it wrong."

"What?"

Lucy thought to herself that getting Rotwell even more angry in the situation was probably not the best idea.

"It's, all is fair in love and war."

With that, he swiped at Rotwell's legs with his rapier. The other man let go of Lucy's neck to howl in pain and hop, holding his injured leg. As Lucy, stumbled away gasping for air, Lockwood delivered a walloping kick to Rotwell's backside.

That's the moment Holly returned, Miss Fittes in tow.

"What is happening here, Mr. Lockwood?"

Lockwood grinned tiredly around at the scene, at George making sure Jonson was down, at Lucy slumped against the wall, safe and mostly uninjured, at Holly standing, panting slightly, but proud, next to Miss Fittes.

"Actually nothing much, you missed most of it."

All the Fourth years were shuffling, whispering excitedly amongst themselves. They were all graduating today, being presented their Fourth Year certificates and read their Acceptance list.

The Acceptance list was the list of every agency in London that was willing to hire that particular person. Everyone aspired to have Fittes on their list, and everyone feared an empty list.

Lucy whispered to Lockwood, who was standing right next to him,

"Are you going to join Fittes?"

"Hm? Oh...No I don't think I am."

Lucy raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"You don't think you're going to be Accepted?"

"No. I think I want to start my own agency."

He said it so simply, and matter of fact.

Lucy blinked.

The ceremony had begun and they started calling names.

"You're going first out of all of us Luce. Your last name."

They stood in silence for a bit, listening to the polite clapping. Lockwood spoke again.

"Fittes is defiantly going to accept you. Especially after the Rotwell incident."

Lucy looked for a long moment at Lockwood, studying his face. It was unreadable.

"Is the Lockwood Agency accepting anyone?"

His grin dawned, dimming everything else around.

"I don't know about the Lockwood Agency, that sounds a bit conceited, don't you think? Maybe Lockwood and Company?"

"Lucy Carlyle."

Her name was announced and her path to the stage cleared.

She grinned in a fair well of sorts.

"See you on the other side."

Fittes did accept her. But when asked where she wanted to go, Lucy said,

"I am undecided."

The crowd muttered uneasily. No one declined Fittes. But Lucy walked off the stage happy, to wait for the others with the other newly graduated teens.

She was technically an adult now, by culture standards.

Soon everyone was graduated, even poor Greg Zacharius, and they all cheered loudly. That night was going to be a night to celebrate, eat lots of good food, and saying good bye to the Academy and that way of life.

After the dinner was eaten, and tables shoved aside to make room for the dancing new grads.

Lockwood and Lucy watched from the outskirts, leaning against the wall together.

They were telling funny stories of the stupid things they had done, joking that they were adults now. Lucy giggled,

"Remember that time George laughed so hard milk shot out of his nose at Holly. We wouldn't do that now. We're adults."

Lockwood replied, laughing hysterically as well,

"That was last week."

"Exactly."

Lucy added,

"Remember when you kissed me during the Rotwell Incident just to not get caught."

Lockwood only laughed a bit here, and grinned a bit mischievously.

"Yeah it's funny, that's one of the things from my kid years I don't regret at all."

Lucy went red with embarrassment.

He continued,

"Actually I've wanted to kiss you again ever since that, but we always have the most horrible timing." He leaned closer to her, still grinning.

Lucy's face could've been a tomato, but she was smiling too.

"Har har har very funny."

Just then, Holly walked up and said,

"Come on Lucy! Tonight is probably the only night I can get you to dance."

"Okay okay fine Holly."

She grabbed Lucy arm and led her to the dance floor.

Lockwood watched them go, and sighed.

"The most horrible timing..."

THIS IS NOT THE END, RATHER THE END OF THE BEGINNING.

Hello lovelies! This is the end of this "section" because I'm entering it in a contest! AH! MUCH SCARy! Actually not that scary because the people in this fandom are so nice (HAVE I TOLD Y'ALL LATELY HOW MUCH I LOVE YOU?) Locklyle feels omg I hope y'all caught the "love and war" thing coming out of Lockwood's mouth :')

Much love,

Sparkle

NEW AUTHORS NOTE:

HEY HEY HEY LOVELY PEOPLE! I just want to thank the continued support! Just wanted to let you guys know that I actually won the contest ! Wow! :)

Love y'all!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank y'all, as always! I would love reviews (as always) ;) The Lockwood and Co fandom is too small for everyone to be silent! This is my encouragement to hesitant writers/artists/creators: JUST DO IT! When you do it, you will find joy in the journey, as well as knowledge. You will be better because you did it. It might not be perfect the very first time. It may never be perfect! But you know what? Without you doing it wouldn't even exist. Write. Paint. Draw. Create. This is your time to shine!
> 
> Much love,
> 
> Sparkle


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